behind brown eyes
by livvylovesyou
Summary: Phanfiction, originally from tumblr/ "This was so wrong, didn't Dan see it? They weren't supposed to be acting like this. This was supposed to be their time to be close, to be best friends. Not tense and silent. Not keeping secrets." or, Dan and Phil need some help in sorting out their feelings.
1. 1: Phil

_This is a short Phanfiction I posted on tumblr. I'm only putting it on here because this way it's easier to access._

* * *

Phil had never thought much about the breakfast bar before. It was a stupid thing to have in a kitchen, actually. After all, it wasn't as if either of them ever used it for eating breakfast. Delia Smith pancakes and "breakfast bar perverts". Now it was being used to hold moving boxes, and Phil's elbows. He sat in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar, half empty glass of Pimms forgotten, watching Dan.

He wasn't sure if he was the only one who had noticed the difference in Dan recently. There was something out of place in the way Dan interacted with him. Averted eyes, lip biting, messing with his hair. They all seemed nervous behaviors, as if Dan had something to hide.

Phil shook his head. As if Dan could be hiding something from him, of all people. Dan, outspoken, confident in his beliefs. Never secretive. Never like this.

"Dan?" Phil called out, quietly. Dan looked up for half a second, yanking one earbud out and returning to his screen.

"I'm busy." The tenseness in his voice stung.

"Yeah." A cold sadness moved through Phil's chest, settling at the bottom of his heart, and the reply came harsh. "I knew that."

Dan lifted his eyes from the screen, scanning Phil. "What did you want?" His voice was softer this time and softened the blow of the first. Phil could have sworn he saw the corner of his mouth lift in a little smile, the kind of smile he hadn't seen for a week.

"Nothing. Sorry to bother you." The tone was still there, and Dan's smile melted away.

"Okay."

This was all wrong. Living with Dan had been one of the best things in Phil's life. And in the past year they'd been the best of friends. He remembered movies and Kinder Eggs, helium, cat whiskers, Edward Cullen, videos, hanging out in Dan's room until three AM. Just two weeks ago Dan had mistakenly referred to Phil as his brother and hadn't bothered to correct himself.

And now Phil seemed more of a stranger than family. And that hurt.

"I'm gonna go to bed." Dan said from the living room, shutting his laptop and shutting off the lamp. Phil leaned against the wall, watching him. He was just so interesting to watch- the curve of his hand pushing his hair out of his eyes, the way he slouched, the way every motion seemed deliberate and rehearsed, fluid, like art. It was beautiful.

Phil stood solid in the doorway, taken aback by his own thoughts. _Beautiful_? Dan was his best friend and Phil was no sap, either. "Beautiful" was Buffy. "Beautiful" were the graphics on his new games. "Beautiful" was sunrise and Monet.

But the more he thought it over, the more it was all he could think of. It was true in every sense. And the more the thought took hold in his mind the more it made sense to him. Why couldn't Dan be beautiful? Dan was good-looking, for sure. Phil had been jealous for as long as he'd known him. Dan was one of the best people Phil had ever known.

"I just said I was gonna go to bed and you blocking my door is probably one of the most counterproductive things you could possibly be doing."

"Sorry." Phil said sheepishly, stepping aside.

"What's with you, anyways?" Dan asked, arching one eyebrow. Lean, dark brows and clear brown eyes.

Beautiful. Dan was beautiful.

Phil shook his head quickly. "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

Dan chuckled, one step away from a nervous laugh. "What d'you mean?"

"You've been acting off, okay? I didn't want to say anything."

Dan looked away, pushing past him. "I'm tired."

"That's it?" Phil asked, letting his eyes follow him away.

"Yeah. Can we please not talk about this?"

"Yeah. Okay." The cold feeling eating at Phil's heart seemed to deepen. This was so wrong, didn't Dan see it? They weren't supposed to be acting like this. This was supposed to be their time to be close, to be best friends. Not tense and silent. Not keeping secrets.

"Goodnight," Phil called out, hoping for a reply. But the light flicked out first, and the darkness swallowed his words, along with the remaining traces of the kinship Dan and Phil once had.


	2. 2: Dan

There was a sadness that settled right into Dan's body from the minute he woke, a sense that somewhere something wasn't right and a definite urge to fix it. And a sense that today was probably going to be a bad one. There was a feeling he couldn't place, something he probably should have remembered, but in his current state of half-sleep, it had slipped his mind.

Then it all came back. Phil, and the conversation in the doorway. Dan shutting off the light without a word. The conversation that shouldn't have been. It was so awkward, so tense, and Dan couldn't help but feel like it was all his fault. If only he hadn't been so stubborn about hiding from Phil. He knew how sensitive Phil could be and how poorly he'd have taken Dan's silence.

In fact, the more Dan thought about it, the worse he felt, until he simply couldn't take it anymore. He rolled over, buried his face in the pillow, and screamed.

If only he'd just been honest with Phil. But how was he to explain it? These… feelings were so real, so vital. So impossible to describe. Words could not do them justice. That, coupled with the fear of a misunderstanding, held him back. Because no matter how he said it, "I have feelings for you" would never be taken the way he meant it, and there simply was no other way to put it.

Instead, Passive-Aggressive Dan had shut himself away from the greatest friend in his life, and that was far worse than hiding.

Dan rolled out of bed a good two hours too early, a chill working its way up through his body from the cold floor. He moved on autopilot across the hall, guilt driving his footsteps. "Phil?" he called, tapping on Phil's bedroom door. There was silence. Dan slumped against the wall, staring down at a crack in the baseboard. Phil was definitely awake by now. Awake, and probably still wondering what he'd done wrong.

If only Dan had a way to explain that he was at fault. He hated himself for feeling this way, hated his inability, his ineptitude. It wasn't as if Phil was unable to understand. Dan was unable to bring it to words.

"Phil!" he called out again, leaning into the door. It was so strong, the way his body in its entirety wanted to be on the other side. Phil's presence in the adjoining room was so powerful.

It cut Dan through like a knife, however, when Phil replied shortly after: "I'm busy."

Dammit. Dan hadn't remembered coming off so strange. And he hadn't intended to hurt Phil. It was the need he felt, the bizarre compulsion to hide the way he only wanted to smile when Phil was around. "Can I come in?" he asked, expecting stony silence.

The opening door took him by surprise. As did Phil's gentle half-smile. There was no accusing glare or stone-hard expression. Phil was simply smiling, per usual. It was enough to make Dan's heart ache.

But… why? It wasn't as if Dan had expected Phil to have spent the last night lying awake crying over him. No, he hadn't expected that. But a tiny part of him, the part he kept pushing away, had wanted it, just a little.

"You okay?" Phil asked, brow furrowing. Dan blinked back into reality, watching Phil's expression change.

"Huh?"

"You've been staring at me for almost a minute." Phil's comment was meant to be innocent, but Dan felt a rush of heat coupled with a sudden burst of fear.

"Sorry. About last night." he said, desperate to change the subject. "I didn't mean anything. You know that, right?"

"You're not 'tired' anymore?" Phil asked, calling his bluff. Dan's fingers curled.

"That's not really it."

"Then what is it? Is it London?"

"It's you." Dan said, and Phil's face changed.

"What about me?"

The accusing tone was back, but more than anything he seemed confused. And at the same time, defensive. Dan recognized that tone. It was the same tone he himself had been using on Phil just last night. There was something Phil didn't want him to know, something he was dangerously close to guessing. Dan felt a tiny twinge of betrayal in his stomach, and a hint of satisfaction. So Phil kept his secrets, too. Perhaps it was best.

"It's just that… around you I-" Phil's stare cut through Dan like a steel blade, dissolving the words in his mouth. He couldn't explain. There'd never be the words, especially not with Phil standing right there in front of him, warm and open and pleasant. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Phil shook his head, like he knew. "It's cool. Wanna start me some tea?"

Dan nodded quickly, the heaviness of his secret weighing down his heart and making it hard for him to stand straight. "Okay." He made his way lethargically down the hall, pausing for one moment to look back at Phil, who was watching him with wonder and intensity, like a blind man seeing colors for the first time.


	3. 3: Phil

_Dan is back._

_Dan is sorry._

_Dan is… confused._

Phil's emotions were spinning in circles around his mind like birds of a windy day- fast and scattered and unable to settle down. What did Dan have to be confused about? If anyone deserved the right to confusion it was him. In the past week he'd been ignored, then snapped at, then cold-shouldered, and now Dan was sorry?

Hell, it was like the guy had made a complete 180 in the last ten minutes. Phil sipped his latte, watching Dan wash the steamer. The grace of his motions was almost hypnotizing. Dan seemed… happier than he had just his morning. A little less rigid, definitely. And most of all, much more free. Phil wasn't sure what it was, but their conversation just minutes ago had seemed to bring Dan all the closure he needed.

Phil had found his closure there, too.

It was interesting, finding something that left Dan at a loss for words. Dan was always so articulate. Words came easy to someone like him. To find him struck silent by any emotion was rare, and the fact that whatever this was about related to Phil left him with more questions than Phil could ever voice.

"How is it?"

Dan's voice brought Phil's mind back to their living room, back to a pair of pretty brown eyes just inches away from his. "Surprisingly good," he commented, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I didn't think you knew how to turn the steamer on, let alone use it."

"Funny," Dan said, fighting a smile, his eyebrows arching.

Phil had to turn away to hide the hot flush spreading over his cheekbones. Damn him for being so cute. Phil shook his head, trying to erase the unmentionable thought that had come to his mind. He couldn't possible think that way about Dan. Dan was his best friend. He was four years younger. He was DAN, for God's sake.

It was true that last night Phil had discovered for the first time that Dan was beautiful. And there was a truth to the sentiment that everything Dan did was perfect. Dan also happened to be one of the straightest guys Phil knew.

The thought made him physically recoil, setting down the cup on the side table with a loud clicking noise. He could see Dan stop over at the sink and turn towards him, a confused, questioning look in his eyes. Phil stared at the cup, shocked at his reaction. What was the thought that had triggered such a reaction? That Dan was perfect?

No. The fact of the matter was that in identifying Dan as straight, Phil's mind had presented it as a negative.

Phil turned his head, letting his eyes follow Dan. _So Dan is straight. This is a fact. Dan being straight is a problem. A problem for me. Dan's been straight the entire time I've known him and I've never cared. So what does that make me? I could be gay, I guess, but I'm not in love with _him_, so why do I care?_

"Phil?" Dan asked, moving closer. "What's up?" Phil shook his head, at war with himself. "Phil?"

"I'm not gay!" Phil shouted, and Dan flinched, giving him a nervous laugh and a look that clearly said "what the fuck".

"I never said that." Dan replied, quiet and trying to maintain good humor, running a hand through his bangs. There was a certain undertone of anxiety that had reappeared in his tone, and the stressed fear of a prey animal in hiding in his eyes, but it barely had time to register with Phil distracted so.

Phil took a deep breath, letting his head fall into his hands. "I didn't mean to say that. I don't know, it just sort of popped out."

Dan nodded knowingly. "Cake lizards," he said, a little smirk blossoming into a full-fledged grin.

Now it was Phil's turn to look concerned. "What?"

"Remember PJ's video? You tend to say weird things when something interrupts your subconscious thoughts. So whatever you're thinking just pops out of your mouth. For example, 'I'm not gay'." Dan looked a bit smug and, though maybe it was just Phil's imagination, a little bit pleased. Phil swallowed hard, looking back up at him with a sharp nod.

"Makes sense."

The grin on Dan's face widened. "My guess is that your subconscious is questioning its sexuality."

_It's not just my subconscious. _

Phil gave a weak smile in return, and Dan's eyebrows knitted together. He took a seat on the couch, an arm's length too far from Phil, crossing his legs underneath him. "You know you're my best friend, right?"

Phil chuckled, choking back the elation he felt at this after a night like last night. "Yeah, of course."

"So you don't have to be afraid to talk to me about anything. I'm not going to judge you, you know."

Phil tried in earnest to read any emotion from Dan's face, but he always held a excellent poker face, and now was no exception. Phil leaned back, trying to sort out his feelings. The whole "best friend" remark had him over the moon, especially after that fact had been in question for some time.

Phil took a deep breath, looking Dan in the eyes. "It's really complicated." he muttered, shutting his eyes.

"Fine." Dan waited. Finally, after a long moment of silent, he sighed, and the cushions moved as he shifted his weight. "This doesn't have anything to do with me, does it?"

Phil's blue eyes shot open, his gaze immediately focusing on Dan. In the filtered light from the rising sun each strand of hair was highlighted in gold, his skin bathed in warmth, his eyes sparkling with wonder and concern. Phil took a shaky breath, trying to see behind their amber depths. There was something there, something Dan didn't dare voice, something he desperately needed Phil to know. Phil blinked slowly, tearing his eyes away.

"Does it?" Dan repeated, as if Phil simply hadn't heard the question.

"It has everything to do with you." Phil said, searching Dan's face for a reaction. There was a flicker of something though his stoic stare, something that looked like hope.

It was the most beautiful thing Phil had ever seen.


	4. 4: Dan

There was something in Phil's expression that Dan couldn't quite place and wasn't particularly sure if he wanted to. Perhaps it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. God knows it had been running wild enough after Phil's last comment.

Dan couldn't possibly fathom what he could have meant. He had his theories, of course. This morning. London. Something else he didn't dare say, something he kept pushing into the back corner of his thoughts. Nothing seemed to fit. And no words seemed to work, either. Try as he might, Dan could come up with no reply suitable for what he was thinking.

So he took a deep breath, looked Phil right in the eyes, and said simply:

"Okay."

The corners of Phil's mouth turned down slightly, and he remained still for several moments, as if waiting for more. Dan gave a tiny smile, and Phil turned his head away, staring at the floor between his knees. Dan watched silently, waiting for him to say anything.

After a minute had passed, Dan poked Phil's leg with his toe. "Phil?" he prompted, quietly.

"You want the truth?" Phil said suddenly, startling him.

Dan pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. "If you want. You don't have to-" he added hastily, "if it makes you uncomfortable or anything. If you don't want to."

Phil sighed, swiveling around so they were face to face, one cushion length separating them. "Mine for yours." he said, with a very un-Phil-like intensity.

Dan cocked his head. "What d'you mean?"

"I asked you what was wrong this morning and you said you couldn't explain. I'm asking you now to try."

Dan leaned back in defeat, focusing intently on the ceiling paint. "You first." he muttered.

Phil took a deep breath in, biting his lip. "The truth is… you're confusing me a little."

"What does that mean?" Dan asked, mussing up the hair on the back of his neck. "Wait… does this have to do with the… the 'I'm not gay' thing?" He barely whispered the end, but he could tell by Phil's silence that he was right. Phil nodded slowly, his face turned to the ground in quiet shame. Dan suddenly became aware that for the first time since they'd known each other, Phil looked like he was actually about to cry.

Dan exhaled slowly, his head unsure of what circus acrobatics his heart was doing in his chest. "O-okay." he stammered, finally becoming aware of how similar his sentiments would sound. "Yeah, okay, I think that's normal. I mean, I guess living so close to someone for a while could…"

He was bluffing and he knew it, and he could tell out of the corner of his eye that Phil knew, too, that it was so much more than that. So much they couldn't say and so much they wanted to.

"What about you?" Phil asked suddenly, looking up at Dan with slightly wetter eyes. "What you couldn't say this morning."

"I'm still not sure if I can," Dan admitted, somewhat sheepishly, embarrassed to feel so nervous after Phil's incredibly brave admission.

Part of him, a part above nerves, was elated that in some ways Phil felt the same. And the rest of him was still terrified that no way he put it would be good enough and Phil would never want to see him again. And that thought was enough to almost reduce him to tears. Dan leaned back and longed for the days where he could just think normal thoughts. When he wasn't an emotional trainwreck.

"You want some time?" Phil prompted, snapping Dan's attention back.

"I think so," he murmured, his voice shaking.

"I'm going out, then. Coming?"

Dan smiled, getting slowly up off the sofa. "Yeah. Sure. Can we go to Shakeaway?" Phil let out a distracted chuckle.

"Sure. I have to go to Tesco anyways."

Shoes and wallets collected, they set off. Dan rode the elevator down in distracted silence, trying to think about anything but the situation at hand. He could see that pensive look on Phil's face, and he knew that Phil was probably trying to do the same.

"I like your thinking face." Phil said, interrupting his thoughts. Dan stared at Phil for a moment, before letting out a little chuckle and a smile.

"I have a thinking face?"

"Yeah. It's almost the same as your Kristen Stewart face, only you kind of bite your lip a little, too. Like some sort of sick, twisted Kristen Stewart-rabbit hybrid."

Dan burst out laughing. "Oh, God, no. Remind me never to think again."

This was the sort of brotherly camaraderie he had been missing.

"Phil, I have to do it now." Dan said, the rush of courage fading slightly already. Phil stared blankly back, raising his eyebrows slightly, questioning.

"Okay." he replied, his tone hinting at millions of unvoiced questions lying dormant beneath the surface.

"The truth is…" Dan let the words fall into silence, closing his eyes and searching into the deepest chasms of his mind, drawing out the unwanted truth. He could feel Phil's radiant anticipation next to him. It was time.

"The truth is I sort of love you, Phil."

Phil was still staring at him in silence when the lift came to a halt ten floors later.


	5. 5: Phil

Only after about twenty seconds of painful silence did Phil finally regain the ability to think. "Platonically, right? I mean- you could- we really- I don't know." He was rambling, of course. There was no way it could possibly be anything but true. The signs had been in front of his face for years. He just hadn't been paying enough attention to notice.

"I don't know." Dan said as the elevator doors slid back together, seeming as distracted and awkward as Phil had ever seen him. "I guess you're confusing me a little, too."

"Oh." It took a moment to register his own words. "Right."

The pregnant pause that filled the empty space in between words was loaded with questions neither one could ask or answer. In the confined elevator it left an almost claustrophobic air, and Phil was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, let alone break the silence crushing him like an iron fist.

Dan moved to the door, pressing it open. "I'm going to… I'm going… somewhere."

_No._ "Dan, wait, can we please talk?" The doors slid apart and Phil was shocked by the urgency, the yearning in his voice. Like he didn't just want Dan here, he needed him. And that was almost enough to terrify him.

"Do you want anything?" Dan asked, ignoring him.

Phil's brain and heart were on separate ends of an impossible impasse, half ready to give him the time and space he needed, half ready to pull him back. Eventually, the urge to make him stay won out over reason. "Dan, sit down." Phil said, jamming his finger down on the door close. Dan watched him, skepticism written in his dark eyes.

"We're in an elevator." he pointed out, slipping a hand in between the doors. Phil swatted him away.

"Sit down. We're going to talk right now."

Dan pushed Phil's hand from the panel, stepping in between him and the controls. "What if someone has to use the lift or something?" His voice carried a sharp note, an edge that suggested a deeper concern than the welfare of other tenants. It was the coarse affection of someone on the witness stand, someone desperate to protect himself and the words he carried.

Phil closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "Dammit, Dan, sit down now."

Dan stepped back, and Phil could hear him moving across the lift floor. "You needn't shout."

"Okay," Phil started, once they were seated on the floor, facing each other, two unbreachable feet of carpet separating them. "Look, I just want to say that whatever happens can't change the last three years. You're still gonna be my best friend."

"Yeah." Dan mumbled, fiddling with his hair. "Okay."

"And no matter what you say right now, you'll still be my best friend."

"I know." he replied, with slightly more force.

"So. "Love"." Phil started, trying to gauge Dan's reaction. His eyes were locked on the seam in the wall and his face was completely blank.

"I'm not entirely sure what I meant. There's, like, best friend love and dog love and girlfriend love and family love and Buffy the Vampire Slayer love. I'm not really sure where you fall."

Phil stared down at his hands, trying to make sense of the words. "And that's the confusing part?" Dan pulled his legs up to his chest with a loud sigh, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands. "Okay, listen, I'm trying to help, here. I don't want you to feel weird around me and I don't want you to think you need to hide anything. I want to help you deal with whatever you're going through because I'm sick of you acting like this, of feeling like I did something wrong. So talk to me, please." Dan lifted his eyes up to Phil's temporarily before returning to his position.

"You want the truth?"

"Please." Dan took a shallow, ragged breath, folding his arms and letting his gaze fall to Phil's shoes, and there it stayed.

"Um, okay. I guess how I feel about you is… well, you're just… I don't know. It's hard." He paused for a few seconds, the crease in his forehead suggesting turmoil.

"I just want to be… to be with you, no matter where you are, or what you're doing, and I don't know what it means or how to stop it because it fucking hurts. It hurts because I can't handle these… these things, and it's just too much and I just can't take it sometimes, okay? So if that's what you wanted to hear then fine. And if it's not I guess you can just forget it because I can't deal with this right now." Phil could hear him breathing heavily, and when he finally looked up there was something amiss in his expression. It was a peculiar quality to his eyes, like fear and sadness and confusion, and to top it off a strange wetness that Phil had never seen before.

It became suddenly clear to Phil that he was about to see Dan Howell cry.

And that it was probably his fault.

Phil moved slowly into a crouch, moving softly across the lift floor, until he was right beside him. Dan's eyes followed him, suspicious. "What are you-"

"Shut up." Phil said, pulling him into a tight hug. Dan, caught off guard, stiffened, arms fast to his side. Phil pulled back, crouching awkwardly on the balls of his feet. Dan shut his eyes tightly, biting hard on his lower lip in an attempt to keep it from shaking. A crystalline droplet just briefly kissed his dark lashes before it was rolling freely down his cheek, one tiny drop that broke Phil's heart in two.

He offered his arms to Dan and this time the need was mutual. Dan pulled him into a hug so tight the air was thrust from his lungs, buried his head in Phil's shoulder, and began to sob openly.

Phil stayed frozen there, crouched on the elevator floor, listening to Dan cry and having no idea what to do whatsoever. Part of him wanted to stay strong, to comfort Dan. The rest, and a significantly larger portion at that, wanted to curl up on the floor and cry with him.

Instead, Phil just pulled him closer and closed his eyes, leaning into Dan's body like someone who knew that his life, as he knew it, was coming to an end.


	6. 6: Dan

(_AN: This is the end. However, I will probably be posting more phanficiton on tumblr in the future that may not be online, so my tumblr URL is inacolor-portraitworld if anyone's interested :) Thanks for the kind words!)_

If there was one thing Dan hated more than anything, it was crying. He'd made a vow a while back that he'd never let Phil see him cry, never let anyone see, for that matter. But when the first tear had fallen it seemed to take all his strength with it, and left nothing but Phil in its place.

The strongest feeling was that vulnerability, like someone had stripped him naked and thrown him into a lion cage. He was scared, even though he was safe at home; alone, though Phil's arms were fixed around his shoulders; ashamed, though Phil had made it clear he had no reason to be.

He didn't want it to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. And it wouldn't have been like this if he had just kept his goddamned mouth shut.

Still, it almost felt good to let everything go for a moment and stop being an adult for once. And, Dan figured, what better place to do that than with his best friend in the world? But under the circumstances, the last thing he needed was to be breaking down in front Phil like this. It was enough that the entire morning had been his fault. The fact that their entire friendship would be permanently changed was his fault as well. And he couldn't have hated it more.

Phil was still hugging him, and Dan suddenly became aware of how Phil's arms were shaking a bit, too, and that broke his heart even further. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice breaking.

Phil gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "It's okay."

After a while Dan let his arms go limp and Phil leaned back on his heels, leaving a comfortable foot between them. Dan closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall, and sat still for a moment. He could hear Phil moving past him, and then felt him take his arm. Dan got shakily to his feet, leaning to Phil's grip on his elbow. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Back home?" Phil asked, hand hovering over the button panel. "I know we didn't get to go anywhere but I think given, um, just now, um-" He let his words trail off, eyes flitting around the lift, searching for something to hold on to. "I forgot the lift has a camera now." he added sheepishly, nodding towards the shiny black apparatus on the ceiling.

Dan felt a hot flush of embarrassment, and he gave a small smile, a gesture that felt foreign on a still tear-stained face. "Home sounds fine," he agreed, soft and reserved, letting Phil press the button that led them upstairs.

"I would ask if you wanted to talk about it, but I think we've done enough of that for one day." Phil's voice was light and full of the usual gentle good humor, but there was an undertone of what sounded almost like discomfort, which did nothing to alleviate the heaviness in Dan's chest.

"Yeah." Dan murmured with a short chuckle as the elevator slowed to a halt.

There was absolute silence as Phil unlocked the door, silence as Phil went to the kitchen and Dan was left in the living room with nothing to do. He wanted so desperately to apologize again, but he couldn't find the words, and he wasn't sure what good it would do if he did.

Settling down on the couch, Dan opened his laptop and pulled open YouTube, eyes scanning the comments with little interest. He could hear Phil in the kitchen, the popping of a cork in a bottle of wine, glass clinking on the counter. He turned his head just in time to see Phil knock back a full glass of wine in two swallows. Guilt drove his eyes away, back to his laptop. So Phil was going to become an alcoholic now.

And that was probably his fault, too.

Dan didn't bother to look up when Phil settled into the chair directly across from him,

"Dan?" Phil called softly from the chair across the room, getting up slowly and moving across the room to where Dan sat, hand poised over the down arrow on his keyboard. Dan looked up, watching him, brows raised in concern.

"I thought you said-"

Phil moved a hand to scratch the back of his neck (a nervous gesture, Dan noticed) and still wouldn't look at Dan when as he spoke. "I'm not going to try and talk. I just- I need to do this. The… the not-knowing, it's killing me." He took a step closer with every other word, and soon Phil was right there and Dan was leaning back into the couch looking up at him, every breath coming shallower and shorter than the last. He could smell wine and toothpaste on Phil's breath, shampoo from his hair, aftershave, warm cologne. He could see the light from the window reflecting off Phil's blue eyes, the faint patches of stubble on the underside of his chin that the razor had missed. Dan pushed the laptop off his knees, pressing his arms against his stomach.

"What's up with you?" he asked, as Phil laid a hand on his shoulder, resting one knee on the couch cushion in front of him. "This is kind of weird, you know." Dan added, pushing on Phil's arm, trying to move him away.

"Shut up." Phil said too quickly and too forcefully, running a hand under Dan's chin and lifting his head gently upward. There was an uncomfortable sensation in Dan's chest as his heart began racing, his lungs seemingly unable to take in enough air. That just one touch could create this physical response, and this intense combination of fear and anticipation, was both amazing and terrifying all on its own.

"Phil, what are you doing. Stop it." Dan protested, squirming. Phil took Dan's face in both hands, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I thought I told you to shut up. I want to try something."

Temporarily frozen, Dan took a few hurried breaths. "Seriously, what're you doing?"

"Shut up and tell me how this feels."

"I don't un-" Dan's eyes went wide with the realization and he pulled back, leaning back into the sofa. It wasn't that he didn't want it. He craved it too badly, and that in itself was terrifying.

"Shut. Up." Dan blinked once in defeat and then Phil was leaning into him and Dan was moving up towards him, like a blind baby bird in need of sustenance.

The kiss in itself lasted only about a second between the first touch and the time Dan pulled away, wiping his parted lips on the back of his hand and staring up at Phil. Phil moved away, back to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall, looking equally perturbed.

They stayed far apart, Dan on the couch, Phil standing against the wall, watching each other, searching for the words to say.

It had almost felt practiced, the kind of feeling one got from kissing a long term girlfriend, after the spark had faded but the love was still there. There were no fireworks. No open flame. The feeling was deep within him, seeming to melt him from within, like someone had lit a match under his ribcage.

And then there was the overlying first kiss feeling. Not the good feeling that made his senses light up like firecrackers. The 'what the fuck is happening right now' kind of muddled confusion. And that was, in its own way, stronger than the warmth.

Dan could tell by the look in Phil's eyes that he felt exactly the same.

"That was weird." Dan said hurriedly, shivering.

"Yeah." Phil agreed. "Let's not do that again."

"Yeah." The corner of Dan's lips turned upward slightly, and in just a second they were both laughing and watching each other laughing, as if nothing had even happened.

The feeling of peace that comes with the rectifying of something so wrong for so long is a beautiful thing. Somehow he knew that their relationship was never going to be the same again. But he was finding it physically impossible to stop smiling.

"Friends?" Phil asked, holding out a hand as if expecting Dan to shake it. Dan swatted it away, grinning from ear to ear.

"Best friends."

"Shakeaway?"

"Halo?"

Phil's face broke into a grin, and he jumped up on the couch next to Dan, folding his legs beneath him. "Always." Dan started up the game, and Phil shot him in the head at the first opportunity. "That was for this morning." Dan soon returned the gesture with six direct shots to Phil's chest.

"Hey, Phil?" he called out over the din of fake gunfire, whacking Phil on the arm with his controller.

"What?"

"You suck at Halo. But thanks. For today, I mean." Phil offered no response but a wide smile, chucking Dan lightly on the knee.

"Hey, Dan?" Phil said, gunning down an enemy soldier.

"What?"

"I love you."

Dan blinked slowly, his dimples deepening as his smile widened. For once, he knew what he wanted to say. And knew without any doubt this time that he knew what it meant. "Love you too."


End file.
